


Through Song and Mist

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Multi, Power of Song, Reclaiming a Loved One From Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26858743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Indis seldom sang after her arrival in Tirion, until the day she left for the Halls to retrieve Míriel.
Relationships: Background Finwë/Indis/Míriel, Indis/Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: Finwëan Ladies Week 2020





	Through Song and Mist

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Finwean Ladies Week 2020, Day 1 - Indis & Míriel.

Seldom had Indis picked up her harp and given voice to song since she had come to Tirion decades ago.

She had sung sometimes to her children or to Finwë when he turned once more to despair, but Fëanor had always seemed filled with grief at the sound, so she had eventually begun to sing only when he was not there.

Maglor had come to her sometimes, begging for lessons and songs, but that had remained a secret between the two of them. He would dart in only on the days when Fëanor’s attention was turned somewhere else, and she would take care to only teach Maglor those songs that would not be associated with either herself or Míriel.

“Even Námo remarked once that he enjoyed your singing,” Ingwë had said the last time he visited. “The Valar themselves feel what you sing, sister, should you not sing more often?”

Indis thought on that for some days, face turned towards the winds that came from the direction of the Halls, as Nolofinwë grew older and his fights with Fëanor worsened, and the division of the Noldor seemed almost impossible to bridge.

It would not be enough to turn Námo’s heart alone to sympathy. But Ingwë was beloved of Manwë and Varda, Fëanor of Aulë, Celegorm already of Oromë, Olwë of Ulmo, and surely by now Míriel would have turned Vairë’s heart to friendship. If she could just convince Míriel herself, perhaps she would have a chance to turn the rest to how she thought.

She did not tell any of her family where she was going, though Maglor had caught her singing and had seemed to know from the bits of song. At least she guessed he had when she found the new harp strings wrapped carefully in the bottom of her pack and a light of Fëanor’s make but Maglor’s colors beside it, a hastily written note _For Grandmother, when you find her_ with them.

The woods were less dangerous here than ones they had once walked through, and yet they felt more oppressive than those had. If anyone knew what she intended, she would surely be stopped before she could even near the Halls.

She avoided elves and song as long as she could, sticking to shadow and forest, and not allowing herself to be drawn towards other’s company. She had almost made it to the Halls when she felt herself drawn into a dream, even as she tried to resist Irmo’s call.

“Do not fear, Indis, we have no wish to stop you,” Irmo said, appearing beside her as they both looked at the Halls.

Indis clasped her harp closer to her. “Many of your brethren would.”

Irmo only smiled, even as another joined them. Nienna looked too at the Halls, tears falling down her face.

“Many of our brethren do not understand what it is for an elf to hope and dream, or what it is to mourn as elves do,” Irmo said.

“Song made our world,” Nienna said. “My brothers remember it as well as any of us do, save Manwë. Your song has drawn an elf from one of my brother’s lands before. It may be that you can do so again.”

Irmo laughed. “Indeed. Our brother is not quite as harsh as he appears sometimes. If your song is true enough, you may have a chance. Walk in dreams, and retrieve what you seek.”

Then they were gone. There was no path but forwards in a dream if she wished to fix things, so she picked up her harp again, the bag Maglor had packed still at her side, and stepped forward towards the doors even as her body slept in the shadows of the Halls.

“You should not be here,” a voice said as soon as she stepped into the Halls.

Indis did not answer their master directly, but sang of love and grief. If Námo wished to stop her, he would have to do more.

He did not. Indis spied him once as she searched, sitting on his throne. Vairë was beside him, a faint smile on her face as she held her husband’s hand.

Indis continued to sing until she had finally found the right hallway and could hear another voice begin to join the song, the same as once they had found each other in the darkest woods by doing so. The mists did not lift, but once the darkness had not either, and they had still found one another.

Indis stepped forward until she touched a door handle and pushed it open.

The mists parted then, as she finally beheld Míriel.

“You should not be here like this,” Míriel said, but her eyes lingered on the harp even as she did not sing again.

“Neither should you,” Indis said and stepped forward. “Come back to the city with me.”

“They will not allow Finwë two wives.” Still Míriel’s eyes lingered on the harp, and Indis recalled Nienna’s words.

“I do not see what business it is of theirs, so long as Finwë’s wives’ are both fine with it. Makalaurë gave me some of his harp strings and a light for you, he would doubtless like to meet his other grandmother.” Indis held the bag out towards Míriel, aware of how Míriel’s eyes lingered on the light made by her son. “I would not part from you again.”

And there in the darkness, with the faint notes of a song still echoing down corridors and into Námo’s ear, Míriel took the bag and followed Indis out of the Halls.

There was a moment where Míriel disappeared into the mists behind her, but Indis refused to lose time looking for what had already been found.

And then Míriel was there beside her again as they stepped from mist and spirit to bodies again.

Indis entwined their hands together, pulling Míriel upwards even as a song of joy tumbled from Indis’ lips and echoed through the woods before them. They stood there for some time, simply looking at one another as the sky lightened from Laurelin’s rays.

“Where do we go from here?” Míriel asked when finally they had broken apart, and the song’s final notes had vanished into the forest.

Indis looked back at the Halls, which seemed less ominous now that they were freed from their hold, and then forwards into the forest.

“To Tirion,” she decided, pulling Míriel beside her. “We would not have been permitted to leave the Halls if we did not have some of the Valar’s approval. Let us see Finwë and our children with that knowledge, and then we will solve the rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Morgoth’s Ring, which notes of Indis “Therefore she remained unwedded, when her people departed to Valinor, and she walked often alone in the fields and friths of the Valar, [turning her thought to things that grow untended >] filling them with music. But it came to pass that Ingwë, hearing of the strange grief of Finwë, and desiring to lift up his heart and withdraw him from vain mourning in Lorien, sent messages bidding him to leave Túna for a while and the reminders of his loss, and to come and dwell in the light of the Trees. [sic] His coming was unlocked for, but welcome; and when Indis saw Finwë climbing the paths of the mourning (and the light of Laurelin was behind him as a glory) without forethought she sang suddenly in great joy, and her voice went up as a song of a lirulin in the sky. And when Finwë heard that song falling from above he looked up and saw Indis in the golden light, and he knew in that moment she loved him and had long done so. Then his heart turned at last to her, and he believed this chance, as it seemed, had been granted for the comfort of them both. ‘Behold!’ he said. ‘There is indeed healing of grief in Aman!’
> 
> The other instances of song - Fingon singing while he rescues Maedhros, Finrod dueling Sauron, and Lúthien singing before Námo - that inspired this are more well known. Also inspired by Eurydice and Orpheus, though this ends a fair bit happier than that one did.


End file.
